


One Spooky All Hallows' Eve

by MonikaFileFan



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M, Family Feels, First Halloween With You Challenge, Fluff, Halloween, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-31
Updated: 2018-10-31
Packaged: 2019-08-11 02:57:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16467335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MonikaFileFan/pseuds/MonikaFileFan
Summary: An October 30th glimpse into the life of Mr. and Mrs. Spooky. Mulder carves pumpkins on his and Scully’s first Halloween as parents.





	One Spooky All Hallows' Eve

**Author's Note:**

> This is for the First Halloween With You Challenge from mulderscreek.com 
> 
> I loved writing this, seriously! The "normal" family dynamic is a must to balance all that frustrating angst.

\----------

 

The sun was sinking below the horizon now, pink and orange painted the rural Virginia sky. Scully had flicked the porchlight on as she walked back into the house for him to see on the front steps. Grabbing the last bright orange colored pumpkin left to carve, he sat it down between his legs and started whittling away at it while thinking about how grateful he was to be doing this at all. He glanced up and noticed how the fall leaves surrounding their unremarkable house were unusually beautiful this year. Then again, he thought everything was unusually beautiful with the haze of euphoria he’d been walking around in for months now. 

Mulder had just finished cleaning out and carving three large pumpkins with his jeans covered now in pumpkin guts. One pumpkin got the obvious choice of a flying saucer with a tiny alien carved into its side. Another, he carved a large J into with smaller letters right next to it that spelled out the rest of Jackson’s name. Even though he would always be William to him and Scully, neither had attempted to change who he was now. 

But the pumpkin that Mulder had finished first, was also the one he saved the seeds from to bake in the oven for later. And that pumpkin, was the third and largest one he’d painstakingly spent an obscene amount of time sculpting. Which was of course, for Scully. The design was her idea and she had drawn out the letters on the flattest side in her very precise Scully handwriting that he had always thought looked like art. He’d grinned so hard at her choice of wording that she out right giggled at the gleeful look on his face. 

He was damn proud of that pumpkin that now lit up the front steps with one of Scully’s big candles glowing inside. _ ‘Mr.  & Mrs. Spooky est. 1993’ _  indeed, he smirked.     

Suddenly, a stiff cool breeze rustled through the leaves and blew a lock of hair straight into Mulder’s right eye at exactly the wrong time.  

“Shit!” Mulder jerked his hand back at the precise moment that his vision was impaired and felt the sharp paring knife he held slice through his finger like butter. “Ahh, goddamnit!” 

Jumping to his feet, he swiped the hair out of his clenched eyelid and examined his bleeding finger underneath the porch light. “Oh crap!” Just glancing at it he instantly knew he’d be needing more than a few stitches. “This ought to be interesting,” he mumbled as he opened the screen door with his right hand and made his way through the kitchen.

Fumbling around the kitchen drawers for an old dish rag, Mulder made quite a commotion while freely dripping blood from his finger and down off of his elbow. 

“Mulder? What are you—” 

At the sound of his name, Mulder spun around feeling slightly light headed all of a sudden, and met Scully’s questioning blue eyes. He felt like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Except his hand was full of blood instead of oreos. 

“Scully! How’d everything go upstairs?” Whirling his head around to survey the rest of the countertop for something—anything to soak up the warm weeping wound, he felt his cheeks burn with embarrassment. He and Scully had their hands full as it was right now. She certainly shouldn’t have to waste her excess energy on cleaning up his mess. He saw her confused expression and gaping mouth and blurted out, “Sorry, look—”

“Jesus, trick or treat is suppose to be rhetorical, Mulder!” she shook her head and pushed in a table chair that had bloody fingerprints stained on its white finish.

“I wish this were just a trick here, Scully,” he groaned while holding his bloody hand up in air. Scully walked toward him with wide eyes when she realized he really wasn’t playing any sick Halloween trick. “I’d argue with how this wasn’t my intention more with you, but the sight of my finger leaking everywhere is making me a tad queasy.”

“My God, you’re serious!”

“Contrary to what you may believe about my carving skills, I  _ was _ almost done,” he hissed through the heartbeat now throbbing throughout his finger. “Although, it does kinda look like a crime scene in here.”

Scully looked around as she stood with her hair pulled back in a messy bun, sweatpants slung low on her hips, with a burp rag still draped over Mulder’s old gray tee shirt she wears to sleep in. Her hands were folded across her braless chest and she wasn’t amused. 

“Nearly slicing your finger clean off while carving a pumpkin—leaving a trail of blood all over the porch and into the kitchen isn’t something I want to come back down stairs to find, Mulder,” she pulled his wavering hand down from above her head and held it up close to her. “Now, stop wiggling and let me see it.” 

“Ouch, Scully! You know I appreciate your aggressive side but maybe not so much with my injuries.”

“Let me grab my medical bag,” she ignored him and quickly moved around the corner. “And don’t move, you’re still gushing.” 

Mulder gnawed on his lip while he sat down at the table and listened to Scully digging through her hospital things in the office. He hoped that they weren’t going to wake their colicky baby girl upstairs and need to enlist in the other pair of hands up there for help. 

“Okay, I’m going to have to use non absorbable sutures because that’s all I’ve got. Also, no lidocaine on me this time either, sorry,” she explained, her face in her bag as she walked around the corner and sat next to him. “You know the drill.” Mulder held out his hand palm up and nodded. “Cleaning it out with the Betadine will be quick and then hopefully you won’t need more than ten sutures,” she said through a slight smile in her doctorly tone as she patted his cheek, silently telling him she wasn’t upset with the timing of his mishap. 

“When my wife leaves me unsupervised with sharp instruments for too long—“

“Ten minutes, Mulder. Ten. That’s all it took to change our daughter and lay her in the bassinet,” Scully squirted the antiseptic over the cut after Mulder kissed her hand she had held along his face. “And ten is all it takes I see.” 

Mulder couldn’t hold back a chance to tease her. “Sometimes ten is all that’s needed. Wouldn’t you agree?”

She swallowed and cleared her throat at that very vivid thought, purposely changing the subject. She moved his finger back and forth to check mobility and pushed away the naked Mulder image that flashed before her.  

“In hindsight, Mulder, maybe having your Pathologist wife who carves up things for a living would’ve been a better option to do the pumpkins.” She stared up at him through her lashes with a tilt of her head, teasing him back.

“Oh no way, Scully,” he huffed and shook his head. “Halloween is Spooky Mulder’s holiday.”

She rolled her eyes. “Mrs. Spooky has been my nickname almost as long as Spooky Mulder has been yours.”

“And you love it,” he told her.

Scully nodded in confirmation as she finished laying out the equipment and adjusted the thread along the needle. Then placing his hand closer in front of her, she patted away the fluids. “And I love it.” 

Mulder hissed at the pain and scrunched up his nose at the sight of Scully poking and prodding his still streaming wound.

“Deep huh?” he grimaced. 

“Any more force behind that knife and we’d be off to the emergency room with half your finger missing.”

“Yeah, ah that stings...the middle one, too. Then how would I ever greet the grumpy neighbor down the road?” he chuckled while Scully threaded the needle along his knuckle.

“Mulder, that man is almost 80 years old and half blind. I doubt he sees you waving your hand at him, let alone your middle finger.”

“That’s also the point, Scully. He’s hated us ever since that helicopter landed on our front lawn to pick us up years ago,” he reminded her.

“And…” prompting him while she maneuvered his tender skin.

“And again when another one carrying O’Malley landed to picked me up,” Mulder added, trying not to watch as the needle slid through his flesh.

“Well, can you blame him? He was startled both times and thought he was back in the Korean War, Mulder.” Scully was trying to distract him, knowing how squeamish Mulder could be when it came to blood and open wounds. Unless it was hers of course, since he could never think about his own needs when hers came first to him.

“True, and I apologised to him after that. But then when Daggoo ran onto his property and left dog logs on his front porch, he proceeded to colorfully cuss me out.” Mulder rubbed his shin along hers and smirked with a twinkle in his eye. 

Scully smiled a toothy grin as she threaded stitch after stitch. She could never forget waking up half dressed and running down the stairs to see a completely bare-assed Mulder hollering from the front porch at Daggoo to stop barking and come back home. That was about a month before she found him curled up next to Mulder’s running shoes without a pulse.

He continued his story, still gazing at Scully’s smile. “I just laughed and turned to walk away, but when he started rambling about getting my wife’s “ _ fanny _ ” over there, I held no regret for waving him the bird on my morning runs after that.” 

Her hands stilled for a second and peeked up at his face, realizing that she hadn’t heard that tidbit before. She pressed her lips together and tried her hardest not to laugh as she glanced back down and passed the needle through his skin one final time.

“Protecting my honor, are you?” 

His mouth twitched with a sting of pain and amusement. “Dana Scully needs protection?” he airily joked. “But mark my words, not a soul will ever talk about my wife’s fanny and get away with it.”

She was full on smiling now as she knotted off the suture, and there was no sense in holding back her surge of affectionate appreciation for him. “No, I suppose I don’t  _ need  _ protection, Mulder, but I always welcome yours.” The tone she spoke in was richer and huskier than intended. 

Their eyes met at the same moment they tandemly licked their lips. 

Six weeks. Scully was six weeks postpartum, and that meant six weeks without experiencing that familiar feeling of Mulder’s bare body gliding along hers while being exquisitely filled with his intense love. 

Scully breathed deeply with eyelids fluttering while they stared at one another. Mulder watched her swallow hard as he leaned in and brushed his mouth along hers, instantly forgetting the ache in his finger for the ache beneath his zipper. 

“When I get this...” He pressed a kiss to her mouths corner. “Undivided Dr. Scully attention...” 

She tilted her head and captured his mouth right back. Scully couldn’t help but let out a moan that vibrated deep within her throat. “Mmm.”  

Mulder continued where he left off, barely pulling his lips from hers. “Every time that I’ve been hurt...” He sucked in and just barely teased her bottom lip with his tongue, then murmured along her mouth. “Just added up and became an autonomic response to—”

Scully’s hand wrapped around Mulder’s neck, cutting off his words as she forced his mouth onto hers with enthusiasm. Their mouth’s danced along one another slow and gentle until Scully pulled his fat bottom lip in between her teeth and playfully bit down. Mulder groaned and she pulled away with a devilish smile. 

“Wanting more of me, Mulder?” She finished his sentence for him while arching a brow, knowing full well that her six week no-sex ban would be broken that very night. 

Slightly lightheaded by the fact that his bloodflow had shot straight to his groin at lightning speed, he returned with a growl, “yes, Scully, I always want more of you.”

With their mouths just an inch apart and their playful banter taking an erotic turn, crying echoed and heavy footsteps fell along the wooden stairs. Jackson came rushing into the kitchen seconds later with wide eyes. 

Scully whipped her head around to face their son while Mulder barely moved, still stuck in the moment while leaning into her. 

“What’s wrong?” they both asked simultaneously. 

Tucked securely within Jacksons flanel covered arms, was his wailing baby sister who was rooting her open mouth around her tiny fist as she gave off her hungry cry. 

“Oh, uh...sorry. I was just checking on Margaret when I heard her fussing and picked her up, but then she puked all over me and started crying,” Jackson explained with a disgusted look on his flushing face. Both embarrassed at walking in on his parents kissing at the kitchen table, and grossed out at the regurgitated breastmilk soaking through the front of his shirt. Just as Mulder went to speak, Jackson spun his head around and beat him to it. “Wait, what the heck happened down here? What’s with the blood?”

“My fault,” Mulder raised his stitched hand indicating it was his blood decorating the kitchen and entryway. “I had a little...incident, but Scully here saved me.” 

“Again,” she told Jackson, shaking her head as she handed Mulder a sterile bandage to wrap around his finger.

She stood, tossing the used medical supplies in the trash—all the while smiling at the sight of her two children staring into each others eyes. Jackson gently rocked his sister back and forth while he patted her bottom to soothe her. As she washed her hands, she thought about how the tenderness that he showed toward little Maggie was exactly how Mulder showed his affection so effortlessly to those that he loved. Jackson’s mannerisms—the way he stood, spoke and laughed was just so very Mulder. And it warmed Scully’s soul. 

Mulder walked over and pressed a kiss to baby Margarets red-haired head. “Shh, baby girl, I know you’re hungry.” Maggie calmed and blinked when she heard her Daddy’s voice and was content to suck on her fingers for the moment. “The real thing is coming.”

Scully walked over while drying her hands and offered the clean rag to Jackson. “There really is no such thing as a normal Halloween with Mr. and Mrs. Spooky, is there?” Scully muttered, smiling at her family by her side. Despite the slight craziness of the moment, she was floating blissfully on her own high of Motherhood. And not even her covered in spit up teenaged son, fussy and forever hungry newborn daughter, or a bloody mess in her house could disrupt her joy right now. 

“Scully, nothing is ever normal with us.” Mulder laid a kiss on the top of her head and smirked at his son swaying his daughter. “But I’m certainly not complaining.”

“This is our life, Mulder,” she casually said with a genuine smile. “And it’s  _ always  _ normal when you’re in it.” 

 

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**Author's Note:**

> If you've read any of my other post MSIV fics, you've noticed that I've stuck with the Margaret/Maggie name theme. I like to believe they (especially Mulder) would want to honor Mama Scully!
> 
> Hopefully you thought it was as sweet as I did! Tell me you think please cause comments and kudos are replacing my candy cravings right now ;)


End file.
